Sign In Please

I read about this internet deal on a few other sites, it’s names a "meme", (which I thought was me-me or “all about me”, a type list of predetermined questions) But there was a controversy see here, and although I don’t fully get it, and sometimes never do, I really don’t care. I want to participate. This reminds me of the infamous slam books of my misspent youth.
A slam book was a 35 cent notebook (yes, Beaver, notebooks could be purchased from the school bookstore for 35 cents back in the 70’s) that you purchased and personalized with questions, and posing as anonymous 4th graders (you signed in under a number on the first page, and then answered each subsequent question on a line over the number- like you write a fraction.) The questions started benign enough, “what’s your favorite color”, and progressed from there. Until the cool swarthy 4th graders cast from “Mean Girls” started posing questions such as, “Have you ever kissed a boy” and “What size bra do you wear?” or “What is your phone number?” (In a time when most homes had only one, carefully guarded landline, in the kitchen, and phone calls to boys from giggley 4th grade girls were taboo – could land the young lady with a label of slut, preventing the admittance to Harvard or the marriage to a boy from a good family, if it were discovered.) A Shunning might take place.
Those Questions raised concern with teachers and the principal who also realized that the entire class wasn’t reading during private reading time, nor were we doing our homework. The playground was littered with the books, pages torn from them flying around the blacktop. They outlawed them, quickly, before the PTA could find out. All purchases of 35 cent notebooks became suspicious. I lovingly fingered the few pages of my slam book and life without them went on.
Until now.

Where is your cell phone? In my purse, turned off because of low battery.
Your significant other? The man of my dreams, my sexy best friend and biggest fan, Dan is at work.
Your hair? Always looks the same, no matter what. Like a brown (and sometimes reddish) football helmet. It used to be my crowning glory, now it’s just thick and plentiful, Hair. Hair of which is growing thick and plentiful everywhere. And it’s industrial strength on my chin! GAH! Another crafty thing we were not warned of in 5th grade during the “movie”- you know the one, where the mother makes ovaries and vaginas on the griddle out of pancake batter to explain the facts of life to the slumber party chicks? Uh…there are so many ancient aging secrets that are being kept so that we don’t all run off during the childbearing years.
Your mother? Aging and self inflicted lonely. I’ll leave it at that. I love you dearly mom.
Your father? Deceased now 26 years. WOW.
Your favorite thing? I really love my new couch right now.
Your dream last night? I dreamt that two of my staff were lounging in beach chairs watching the patients check in.
Your favorite drink? Water or Long Island Iced Tea.
Your dream/goal? To lose 30 lbs. and be fit, again.
The room you are in? Office.
Your fear? Death, mine and that of others.
Where do you want to be in 6 years? Migraine free! At my “normal” weight, in a different (the last) home.
Where were you last night? Watching this with my dog and husband.
What you are not? Sweet, skinny, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.
Muffins? No thank you, I would prefer doughnuts.
One of your wish list items? A laptop, and Dolce & Gabana’s Light Blue.
The last thing you did? Poured a cup of Joe, created a skin cancer screening form.
What are you wearing? Black pants, turquoise, linen jacket.
Your TV? I’m in anticipation of watching tonight’s episode of Moonlight, with my lover, Mick St. John. It’s “fang-tastic”. Groan.
Your pets? My large black dog, Casper the friendly dog. He’s a cool lover-boy type guy.
Your computer? Dell, Dell, Dell.
Your life? Good. A tad boring, but good.
Your mood? Consistent. No great highs or lows, kind of bored.
Missing someone? My son. My daughter in Colorado.
Your car? A 1998 Olds Intrigue, without the I-N-T-R-I,or E on the back. Just a “G”. Runs great, paid for, and the first car that I didn’t name.
Something you are not wearing? Dolce & Gabana’s Light Blue.
Favorite store? A confessed shopaholic, I cannot pick just one, and I won’t. I like Barnes and Noble, Marshall’s, Carson’s, Hobby Lobby and Burlington Coat Factory.
Your summer? Swimming and cooking out with the Brady’s. Hopefully, granddaughter Isabelle won’t be afraid of the pool this year, because I got some cool new water squirting devices. (more for Brian and Adam than Isabelle)
Like someone? My lover, Mick St. John.
Your favorite color? All that is Green.
When is the last time you laughed? Almost every Tuesday is good for a belly laugh. The Ladies group I belong to is crazy and we meet every Tuesday evening, for food/beverages/bullshit.
Last time you cried? Last Sunday.
Who will repost this? If you are reading this - you have been tagged. Let me know if you played along.

New Page Element

I'm happy to announce the presence of a little photo display. I'll try to post interesting photo's that depict some relevant thing in my life. Today it's the blossoms that are surrounding my house, my block, my World! It's SPRING! Long awaited, long time coming, and longed for.
Tomorrow is another day...and since Grey's is on. C-u.

You're Forever My Girl

It is a beautiful spring morning, April 26, 2008. The trees along our block are all in bloom with white or pink buds, it’s very palatial. As if I am in another date and time. And I am.
Twenty-six years ago today, I was laboring with my third child. With a four year daughter and a not quite two year old son at home anxiously awaiting the birth of what we thought was “their baby brudder, Abner”. I had shared with my not quite two year old son that if the baby was a brother, his name would be Andrew, and if it was a sister, her name would be Abbie, how he came up with Abner I have no clue, but it’s been a funny part to our family story.

Having had the other two children by natural childbirth methods (breathe and push, and ENDURE!!!!) as was so popular in the 70’s and early 80’s, and having labored a long, LONG 30+ hours with each, I wasn’t surprised when my labor started off long and progressed slowly. Waiting at home until I thought she was practically hanging out, I arrived at the hospital, the day before my proposed due date, dilated only 2 cm.

2 cm. The dreaded words I longed to hear. I thought that I was ready to push for God’s sake, and I am, the minute this snotty nurse turns her back…but two- disappointing- cm. !!! After all the laboring I did at home? This is crazy!

But labor did progress, and soon I was delivering (on my due date I might add, the first and probably only time that I was ON TIME!). I so wanted to watch this time, with my glasses on so I could see, trying not to scrinch my eyes as I pushed and panted, trying to keep them wide open. Better for viewing.

As you crowned, the doctor told me about seeing your hair, and soon they adjusted the large mirror so that I could see your face. Your lightly colored hair all slick and sticking up, your perfectly round head (like Charlie Brown!) coming through the canal that was all mine, with your EYES wide OPEN! You were trying to focus on the world, even before the rest of your tiny little body was through it's warm little cocoon. I still didn’t know if you were an Abner or an Abbie.

And then I knew. You popped into this world, very little pain, no need for episiotomy, thank you very much, eyes wide open and when they wrapped you and put you in the Isolette next to me. You, amazed them all by reaching around for the edge of the blanket and tucking it into your palm, sucked your thumb. You were our Abbie girl.

And that’s how you have lived your life ever since. Eyes wide open, searching for adventure. Until you were three you were so content to explore just within the family and home. As a baby, you never fussed alot. Hell, you slept through the night the night that we brought you home from the hospital, so not wanting to intrude yourself. And like so many other babies with older brothers and sister, you endured calmly all the poking of their tiny fingers into your eyes and cheeks, as they tried to haul you around.

These are all familiar stories to you, I’ve repeated them over the years (but not to the readers…ok, the two maybe that read! How DO you get readers anyway?) You grew up, and left the nest. Oh, my baby, did you have to go so far away? Off to Colorado. We speak almost every day. But I can’t share with you all the day to day things that I share with Sarah. I’ll miss you today, as I celebrate, deep within my heart, my special day with you.
Happy Birthday Bean. I love you, Mom

“And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, Speak to us of children.
And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
Taken without permission from “The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran”

What The F*$+ Friday

What the heck is this?
Does her mother know that she posed for this photo? and that it's rated one of the worst "gaming tattoo" on the Internet? I thought it was a raunchy fashion statement. I'm looking for some jewelry to go with an outfit "I think I'll tat some on".

And dig the "bra". This is a POSTER CHILD for those of you considering tat's.
I 'd say, um, don't? A bunch of the ladies at work yesterday were discussing body art. I'd always joked that if ever I decided to get a tattoo, it would be one of "Where's Waldo". Remember him? Cute as a darn button, and difficult to find. The craze of the 80's coffee table books, about the time I thought I was sassy enough to be able to flirt someone into looking for Waldo on my much leaner body. Hidden between the stretch marks! Ha! Cover your eyes Joe!
I'm sure that when all you young moms out there who kiss the sweetness that is your tiny baby's skin, you will cringe at the thought of Miss Pac Man's appearance on their tush.
I guess to each his own! That is the wonderful, crazy thing I LOVE about people. They never continue to fascinate me! Have a Great Friday everyone!

OMG-This JUST IN

Girls, Girls gather around....I'm so very X-cited.
Seems the fact that I've only lost about four pounds, on this weight loss plan, AND the fact that I borrowed a nifty waist cinching strapless device from my dear co-worker, Bonnie, I have in fact been able to cram into my dress for the wedding!
Yes, MY God, it's true.
AND I could sit down. OH the joys of starvation and undergarments.
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There would be a cool picture here of the bustier, but blogger couldn't upload it today...maybe tomorrow???
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It is DAMN amazing! There isn't too much fat/flab/skin hangin around my mid waistline, and the back fat (or back bacon as Danielle would say) is tucked neatly away. Away where, I cannot quite figure, but I think if I get some amazing Control top pantyhose, I will look absolutely stunning in the Neiman Marcus FREE (did I mention FREE) two piece mother of the bride type dress in celery green that I have been saving for this event. It was given to me with the TAGS STILL ON (swoon) and it's never ever been worn or danced in or ANYTHING.

I will be able to dance with my husband and not worry that he will be fingering layers of flab under the thin fabric of my absolutely FRIGGIN FABULOUS (did I mention FREE) 100% silk dream of a dress.

I must be on the hunt for some fab jewelry to accent this. I was so worried about not being able to fit into it, and have to find a last minute replacement for the wedding at -GASP- full price.

Tra LA, I will skip dessert tonight and tomorrow night too, because I need to have some room for a cocktail or two with dinner.
Ok, carry on with whatever you were doing when I rudely interrupted you so.

RTT or Random Tuesday Type Thoughts

It’s been a good day. Got my emissions tested after work and I passed! (The crowd roars in excitement that my ’98 Olds-paid-for-automobile would pass, thanks to my husband, Mr. Man, and the handy use of some gum and duct tape)

Its 70 degrees outside, and sunny.

Although work was mostly boring, the afternoon was stirred up by a new patient who wanting to use our laboratory services, called for directions and indicated that he needed some help getting out of the car and into a wheelchair to come in. We sent a girl from registration, which is also a medical assistant out to assist him. She tried, but honestly, you can’t come into the health care center without your pants. Yes, when she went to the driver’s side door and opened it, the gentleman didn’t have his pants quite, well, on.
They were there - but he was a larger man, and the pants didn’t come up to his thighs. So, with his entire Biz-ness showing, he just drove on to the medical center for a lab draw.
Scares you to take your youngsters out on the road now doesn’t it? His left arm was not operational, and he couldn’t move his legs, because of the swelling and the obvious pants around his thighs constricting it so.
Ahhhh, just Tuesday. Just another Tuesday in a day in the life.

The cable guy is here.
The on-going cable/phone/internet problem that we have been having has caused yet another visit by the cable guy. Scary cable guys. Most wanting to blame our cordless phones, our new high end big screen digital television, or even Mother Nature. Not the cable services. The guys talk in words and symbols written in "call out" clouds above their heads. He lost me at "Hello", I couldn't get past his bad haircut and grubby cut off pants. (they were cut to just below the knee, like Capri pants for women - don't get me started on Fashions for Cable Dudes)


Did you ever notice how much our language now depends on initials? We use initials in our every day conversations, regardless on whether or not we know that the other person knows what we’re talking about. It's totally socially acceptable, but rude how we think that we're so knowing and cool. How highly we think of ourselves! Oh, how internet users abuse the “initial-speak”. LOL, for Gosh sakes. And healthcare workers are so darn guilty, as is the corporate world. “You have a DVT, and with your CHF your NBC is affected with your CBS.” Or something like that. The corporate office is closed for CNNR and will be likely to stay closed during random HVTD time, that is of course if you are hooked into DLMN, and are CST or EST. If you are not on CST or EST, you can connect via CSNNR transmission. I say “huh”? Play along, and you seem intelligent, and they (the speaker) acts smug, poignantly so. With a smirk on their face, the initial speaker touts you to engage. I can’t because I’ve no clue as to what they are talking about.
Oh, don’t you be so smug, you who reads stuff on the internet. You too are guilty I’m sure.
Imagine someone of a different age group than yourself…they are lost in your assumption that anyone knows what E.T. stands for! If it hadn’t been for Steven Spielberg, none of you would have known either.
Shame on all of us!
TTFN. (Tigger of Pooh)

TGIF

I have a sore throat. Scratchy and sore.
I made some toast, yum. It feels so good going down. Now the house smells so good, like I’m cooking some fab meal for dinner. Boy won’t Mr. Man be surprised when it’s frozen stir fry, instead of some luxurious meal I’ve slaved over.

Ahhhh, TGIF. Work this week has been kinda slow and boring. I collected paper clips off of some old records and shredded them. (Yeah, I KNOW, I should have just went home!) Had some time to think whilst shredding. I thought I’d share some pet peeves with you.

Toss these around, do they bug you too?

1. Bad customer service. Yes, even from the 16 yr. old pimply drive through boy who takes my fast food bag and crumples my burgers, telling me that he got called into work when he wasn’t EVEN scheduled and he doesn’t want to be here now, because it’s too nice outside. Thanks for your order. Or, the short little young thing that gives me a lecture each and every time I buy a pack of “now and again” cigarettes, like I don’t know how bad they are for me and others with my second hand smoke - and I am so polite, but I’m going get her someday soon. I hope I don’t make CNN when I do. Mind your own bee’s wax girlie. Does everyone buying condom’s get a lecture too?

2. Annoyance sets in when someone engages me in a story, or conversation by asking me a distinct question, then does not listen to the answer I give. They also look around, like I can’t see their eyes looking over my shoulder, they are clearly not listening. I should tell them some outrageous thing, like, I’m sleeping with your father, mother, husband…fill in the blank. Hey sister, did that get your attention? Maybe I should just walk away.

3. When someone comes to visit your house, and upon entering states that they hate:
Cats (when they know that you have one) dogs, (same deal) green (the color of your living room) and proceed on in only to plop down and expect you to be happy to visit with them. I could smile and sweetly say, have you gained weight? Something looks so different about you.

4. Here's another I'm sorry to admit. I’d rather not watch midgets perform on T.V. There, I’ve said it. Not counting the Roloff’s, whom I find engaging, I don’t like to watch midgets PERFORM. You know, like Mini Me. It disturbs me. The exploitation of it.

5. Have you ever engaged in a nice conversation with an acquaintance and they start using proper names of people you don’t know in a manner that suggests you know who they are talking about. Like this, “ We had a great time this weekend, we went over to Seth’s and Marge’s and little Kyle had a cute raincoat on!” Who the heck is Seth, Marge and little Kyle? Or, I had one friend who only used HE or SHE etc. out of context, like "I wonder when HE is coming over?" and I never knew what or who she was talking about. I spent all my time, saying “who’s he? Your son?, No, your husband? Oh, your Boss….Ahhhhh. Drove me bonkers. I'd avoid her just because I couldn't follow her conversations.

That’s it for now. Those are enough, I know.
Not like I’m a control freak or something.

Oh, yeah, I forgot to talk about the misuse of the word “dude”. I’m a freaking middle aged woman and the kid at the gas station called me DUDE. I hate that.

I Got Nuthin

I've nothing to say to you. I've been have a really strange week, up and down. Really creative one minute, sleeping the next. The weather around here is really changing, cold in the morning, sunny and in the 70's in the afternoon, will drop to 40 degrees in the evening. It really is Spring.

I typed a witty little post yesterday, but OH, no, you won't read it here. I typed and typed and then got booted of my wonderful Internet connection. I had no phone, no Internet and no cable...hint hint, guess who my carrier might be with a trio like that.
So, I called them and spend about a good hour on my cell phone standing on one leg in the driveway talking to "Steve" who kept putting me on hold while he "tried one more thing". My cell lost it's power (because I forgot to recharge it) and we disconnected.
Steve didn't call back.
But the connection was back. All my typing was gone.
So now...I got nuthin...talk amongst yourselves a minute.

nope, still nothing. Well, when whatever my mind has lost has returned, I'll be back.